


in the moment

by jasondean



Series: modern au [2]
Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7210124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasondean/pseuds/jasondean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>hanschen has never been good with pretty things, and ernst is no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the moment

"hanschen, you really dont have to do all the work... im okay with maybe making the powerpoint or getting some more notes or--"

"ernst, its fine" hanschen says cooly. hes bent over a desk pushed back against the western facing wall of his spacious bedroom, a pencil gripped in his right hand and scribbling away fervently on some lined paper. he ignores ernsts stare on the back of his head, surely attempting to take a glance at the paper. at the thought, hanschen hunches over even more, putting more pressure on his pencil.

"fuck!"

he curses loudly as the lead tip of the utensil breaks, the now-loose piece smudging all over the paper. hanschen continues to mutter more unsavory words as he leans back against his chair, bringing a hand up to pass roughly through his blond hair.

he can still feel ernsts gaze on him, and it only furthers his irritation. "what?!" he snaps, dropping his pencil and turning in his seat to look back at the other boy. 

hanschen feels immediate regret when he sees ernst flinch at his harsh tone. he always feels like hes around some type of precious cargo when it comes to ernst, like a " _fragile, please handle with care_ " label is ironed on to his forehead. its easy to read the atmosphere of a room and the feelings of specific people for hanschen; its those types of skills hes always had a knack at from a young age, but ernst is something else entirely. 

"this isnt  _really_ about the project, is it?" ernst asks gently, testing the waters. he hates when ernst does this, treating him like a child who doesnt know how to control his anger so he throws all his toys in a fit. he feels bitter, mostly, not only because of ernsts oddly calm attitude towards him, but because hes right. completely, one hundred percent right. hanschen rilow, a student who prides himself on being some sort of flexible and multifaceted enigma, can always be figured out by the invisible pastors boy who makes average marks in school and has the same two friends from primary school. hes always strived to be some wallflower of interest -- known but not  _really_ known -- while ernst has stuck to the sidelines and, for whatever reason, has become more perceptive than the outcast hanschen himself.

"please, hansi," ernst says. "im your _boyfriend_. you dont think i know when somethings up?"

he shrugs, not wanting to provide him with the satisfaction of a spoken reply. undeterred by his bad mood, ernst creeps up behind hanschens chair and rests a hand on one of his shoulders while leaning his head on the other. he presses soft kisses to his exposed neck, nuzzling hanschen gently. he feels himself relax despite his best efforts not too (another effect ernst has on him that only hanschen could ever see as a double-edged sword). he takes in a deep breath, breathing in ernsts scent; its nothing really special, just burning sage and soil after the rain.

"thank you," hanschen mumbles, and ernst straightens up, allowing hanschen to sit straight in his chair. he misses ernsts presence immediately, though his hand still rests on his shoulder.

"youre sweet."

"why are you changing the subject, hanschen?" he pushes.

"im not. youre sweet, and thats the problem."

ernst moves his hand off of hanschens shoulder, letting his arm fall to his side. "whats that supposed to mean?" again, that uneasy sensation akin to ice crawling down his spine hits hanschen when he looks back to  see the fear on ernsts angular but all the while youthful face. allowing this stupid boy to get under his skin in the first place was the worst idea of the century. 

"this isnt going to last." ernst face falls, his hands forming into fists at his sides, giving a tight squeeze before he forces himself to let go. 

"what, are you breaking up with me?" he asks accusingly; perhaps hed sound offended if his voice didnt give way to squeaks that alerted to impending tears.

"no. i dont know," hanschen admits. he stands up and pushes past the still stunned ernst, moving to lie on his bed, leaving the school project forgotten on the desk. he feels sick, as hes felt ever since the realization hit him.

it was a week ago, the end of school, right after he and ernst took up a partnership for a project assigned in history. he was sitting on a bench outside of the school library, opened to a page in some novel hed had a report for due in english. he wasnt really reading the words, instead looking above his book and watching ernst, as distracting to him as always; it was like the boy was made of diamonds or something. 

he wasnt even  _doing_ anything. he was just being ernst, milling around with a backpack slung along his left shoulder, making (very dull, in hanschens opinion) conversation with moritz. he eagerly went on about something or other -- a new gadget? maybe it was that book hed been hinting to hanschen that he wanted... -- and it suddenly hit him like a bolt of lightning. 

"it" being how utterly  _normal_ ernst was (and is). he felt something in his chest tighten, making him all too aware of the beating of his heart. hanschen pushed his nose back into his book, trying not to focus on the sudden images flashing through his mind -- more school with ernst, graduation with ernst, living with ernst, marriage with ernst, kids with ernst, dying with ernst. it made him dizzy, the sick, retching sort of dizzy. hanschen immediately closed the book, shoved it into his bag, and near-sprinted home.

the idea of his whole life being planned out made hanschen want to scream, or at the very least, punch something. ernst had gone on and on about what his future looked like, a summary of what he desired being a close family and a steady job. the lowest standards ever, hanschen thought, considering ernsts already lackluster daily life.

"settling down," as ernst had described it, made hanschen want to vomit. he never saw himself in that sort of situation, not with ernst, not with anyone. hanschen has  _always_ known that -- its just that that day he first realized that meant the end of hanschen and ernst somewhere down the road. 

"i dont want to break up with you," hanschen says from the bed, moving a hand to rub his forehead.

"i dont want you to break up with me," ernst affirms shakily.

"i just... i just hate the idea that one day, itll be over," he continues, wondering if this jumble of words out of his mouth is making any more sense to ernst than it is to him.

"it doesnt have to be over," ernst says. hanschen feels the mattress shift under ernsts weight as he joins him in laying on the bed. "im not proposing marriage or anything," he adds quickly. "but, we dont know what will happen in the future."

"i do," hanschen says flatly. "youll leave me for some country girl that will pop out fifty babies for you to love and coddle until you retire from a mediocre paying job and eventually die."

he cant see him, but hanschens sure ernst is rolling his eyes. "really? a country girl? im not country, hansi, and i dont like girls."

"but you like the idea of a traditional family."

"sure, i do," ernst says with a shrug. "who doesnt?"

"...me?" hanschen scoffs. ernst laughs.

"well, youre just a weirdo."

"keep up the sweet talk, babe," hanschen says sarcastically.

"hush. youre a weirdo, and thats why i love you." ernst rolls over on his side, shifting to rest his head on hanschens chest. hanschen moves an arm around him, and he closes his eyes.

"look, hanschen. ill follow you wherever you go. if youre going to be a high class designer in france, or a big actor in america, or maybe an international pop star--"

"--ha, yeah, right." ("i hear you singing in the shower, hansi. it isnt  _that_ bad.")

"--anyway, ill be there for it all. you have no idea what i want," ernst murmurs.

"you dont want adventure and ambition and a distant boyfriend," hanschen points out. 

"i want that if it means i get you," ernst huffs, adjusting his position so that he lays on top of hanschen (who lets out a grunt of disapproval), pressing their noses together and kissing him gently. "if this isnt going to last, id at least like to see it out til the end," he says, unable to shake the sad tone from his voice. "lets just enjoy ourselves in the mean time. just eff it."

"you can say 'fuck', you know," hanschen mumbles, grinning. "no ones going to force soap down your throat."

ernst lifts his head slightly, pretending to look over hanschens face critically with slight disgust. "and you kiss me with that mouth? shame, hanschen! shame."

" _puh-_ lease. we both know way worse things have come out of _your_ mouth."

"not true," ernst laughs, resting his elbows on hanschens chest.

" _ooh, hanschen, fuck, mm, han--_ " hanschens ( _perfectly_ accurate) high-pitched, dramatic imitation of ernst is cut off short by his hand moving over his mouth. he snickers against ernsts hand, achieving at an attempt to push it away from his lips. he moves his hands to muss up ernsts hair before bringing his face to his own for a kiss, deep but still playful. 

he feels one of ernsts hands resting on his cheek and the other on his thigh. "well be okay," he whispers the promise when their lips part, trailing gentle kisses along hanschens jawline. he lets himself believe it, if only it means keeping ernsts light in his life for as long as possible.

**Author's Note:**

> G A Y


End file.
